The Mad Queen of Morgal
by jollygreendragon
Summary: Sveta didn't take her brother's death well, but he continued to help her from beyond the grave. If only her people would believe her. Why couldn't she be happy? Why was she always alone? Rated M for violence.


**Golden Sun belongs to Nintendo and Camelot, not me. Support them if you like the series! I just write fanstuff. And if you feel like borrowing any of my original ideas, please, go right ahead.**

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><p><em>Warning: the following story contains graphic depictions of violence and implied sex offscreen. This story is no longer a lemonfic, but if underage (17!) sex andor copious blood bother you in any way then this story is probably not for you. I also don't recommend reading this at work._

_Please don't leave spoilers in your reviews!_

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><p>In the nation of Morgal, north of Lake Bycal, there was a city known as Belinsk. Near Belinsk there was a forest, and within that forest was a clearing of little significance to most.<p>

The clearing was quite barren, and most people would not have even known about it if not for the well-travelled path leading to it that branched off from the main forest route. For the past three years, at least once per day, Queen Sveta of Morgal had stepped off the main road and made her way toward that empty spot in the woods. There had not even been a path at first; her footsteps had simply grown so common that the forest itself seemed to accept them as part of the natural order. This alternate path now looked so right, so _proper,_ that people would occasionally mistake it for the main road, only to turn around in confusion having realized that nothing existed at the end but a clearing with an oddly-shaped rock in the middle.

But of course, the rock was the point. Sveta knew that, even if no one else did, even if no one else ever could. For the rock was the grave marker for the final resting place of her brother, the late King Volechek, who sacrificed himself to save his people from the greatest catastrophe the world had seen in decades.

At first, her underlings and assistants had protested her frequent trips. They claimed that her patterns were predictable, and made her an easy target for assassins. Then they claimed that her trips took too long, and she needed to spend more time attending to her responsibilities.

Their words fell on deaf ears, and eventually they stopped talking altogether. Sveta would never let anything interrupt her visits, not danger, not illness, not even the gossip that had started about her.

She missed her brother dearly. But she was blessed with a talent that allowed her to supersede the barrier between life and death, if only for a chat. For the past three years, at least once per day, Queen Sveta of Morgal had visited her brother's gravestone for a heart-to-heart.

Volechek, of course, was always happy to talk.

_You have been doing well, sister,_ he said. _I am so very, very proud of you. I hope you know that._

Sveta smiled and waved away the flattery as she sat against the stone. "Oh, stop. I would never be able to do this without your help. I was thrust into the position with no preparation. None! What did they expect me to do?"

_They expected you to lead them, and lead them you have. My advice only goes so far. It is your talent that has allowed Morgal to thrive in my absence. _

"My talent, and your deep understanding of our nation's politics," she replied. "I get it now. I know what to look for. But I am not sure I could ever have learned alone. I owe you everything, Volechek. You should be ruling our country, not me."

_Yet here we are. We must accept our lots in life, Sveta... in a manner of speaking._

"Quite right," she agreed. "Quite right. I never asked for the throne. I never asked for... for the Grave Eclipse, or for your unwilling transformation... I never asked for everyone else to leave me behind and continue their adventures while I busied myself with administration. But I have no choice, do I? Certainly now that the others have moved on. I have not heard from any of them in..."

_In three years, yes. It hurts me as much as it hurts you. But you know they have not forgotten about you._

"I only have your word to go on, brother."

_Would I lie to you?_

"If it would keep me sane, yes."

_Well, I speak the truth. They all miss you terribly, but Belinsk is so difficult to reach, and you are always so busy._

"Busy with my thankless chores, yes..." Sveta muttered. "You know they call me mad? Never to my face, but they underestimate my hearing. They think it is foolish of me to claim that my 'vast insight' comes from my deceased elder brother, and not from my own mind. I have explained Spirit Sense, time and time again, but still they gossip, still they assume. It saddens me to think that my own people would treat me like a player at the opera house."

_And that is one of the few things that make me ashamed of our people. You are not a toy, or a fairytale figure. You are a living being, and you are certainly not mad._

Sveta smiled sadly, and then turned and kissed the stone behind her. "Tell that to our people," she said.

_I would if I could._

She nodded in response. Sveta arched her back, stretching her arms out into the air after having sat in one position for so long. She let herself lie down on the grass, and she stared up into the blue, cloudless sky.

"Does Matthew still think of me?" she asked her brother.

_I cannot read minds,_ Volechek replied. _Not like this._

"I know, but-"

_But he speaks of you. He mentions a desire to write, but he never knows the words to say. He claims that after so long, he would never be sure of your response, and he would not want to trouble you._

Sveta did not respond immediately.

_I know you worry. I know you miss him. I wish I had gotten to know him better in life. He would have made a good king, too._

"Volechek, I wish to believe you. I really do," Sveta said. She gently closed her eyes. "But it has been so long... I am twenty-one years old, and so is he. We are mature adults. Surely he has a better reason than that."

_If he does, I do not know it._

"I suspect he has fallen for Karis," Sveta said. "She was my best friend, and she would have known how much it would hurt. It would explain why neither of them has made an effort to even see if I was alive."

_They know you are alive. Word of your greatness spreads beyond our borders. I suspect they may even be intimidated. Perhaps they think themselves too common for their royal friend?_

"...Doubtful."

_In any case, _Volechek continued heedlessly, _Matthew and Karis are not mates. Trust me. I would know, and I would tell you._

Sveta laughed. "Dear brother, what ever would you have to lose by lying to me?"

_Your company._

The air was still.

Sveta glanced at the grave marker as if it was a living thing, as if she could read its expression and find the truth or falsehood in her brother's statement.

She relaxed and grinned, a tear forming at the corner of her eye.

"I would never take that away from you," Sveta said lovingly. "You are all I have left."

_Everything will be fine, sister. I promise you this._

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><p>By the time Sveta mournfully returned to Belinsk, the sun had almost set.<p>

The streets were completely empty. It was past curfew, after all, and if Sveta did not hold special privileges the city guard may have taken her into custody for her own safety. But they saluted her as she passed, and she pretended not to notice the cautious looks they gave each other in her wake. One of them, she noticed in the reflection of a window, traced imaginary circles on the side of his head. Completely loopy, he was saying.

She had no way of proving him wrong.

Sveta made a beeline for her room upon entering her castle, hoping to avoid the inevitable encounter with the the general of her broken army, the former Captain of the Guard who seemed to have forgotten that his duties no longer directly involved her protection. He had lectured at her time and time again about being out this late, so soon before dark. The people are terrified, he would say. The killings always happen after sundown, he would shout. They need your guidance, and you cannot guide if you are dead.

_Unless,_ Sveta thought, _you are my brother._

She reached her bedroom, glanced from side to side before entering, and then quietly slipped through the door and closed it behind her. The Captain had a knack for showing up when Sveta least expected him. It had been fine early on, when the army's only concern was rebuilding after the Eclipse, but now he was acting more like a shepherd or babysitter. It annoyed her to no end.

Predicting a visit at any moment, Sveta hurried to her ornate chest of drawers and pulled out her nightclothes. She got changed in front of her mirror, making sure her hair looked suitably disheveled, and practiced her best just-woke-up look before hearing a knock at her door.

"Who is it?" she groaned.

"It is _me,_ your Majesty," came a gruff, annoyed-sounding voice.

Sveta opened the door and rubbed an eye.

"General Niko," she greeted him dryly. "Good evening. You woke me."

The tall, scruffy wolf-beastman before her scowled furiously. He was only a few years older than she, but his intimidating posture and his merciless stare spoke endlessly of all the violence and bloodshed he had been forced to endure and overcome so soon in his lifetime. His armor displayed the emblem of Belinsk on the breastplate, and a broadsword hung loosely at his hip. He nodded to the soldiers on either side of him, and they marched off, both to expand the secure perimeter and to give the Captain a chance to speak with the Queen alone.

"You must have quite the talent for sleepwalking then," Niko replied, "as my men reported you returning from one of your usual walks not five minutes ago. Fully dressed, I might add. You have dirt on your right ear, by the way. With respect," he added almost-sarcastically.

Sveta sighed and flicked the dirt away casually. "You must forgive me, then. I suppose that even unconscious I must find ways to escape your tedious drivel. Have you come to lecture me again about the curfew you imposed? Because I hardly think it should apply to me."

"We will have to disagree on that note, but no," the General said. "As much as I would like to spend the next fifteen minutes acting as if you're listening to a single word I say... I feel we must discuss the attacks."

"Oh?"

"Our men arrived at the western plains three days ago, as per your orders. All nearby settlements have been alerted, guards have been posted, and a search has begun for any monster dens. As of yet, there has been no success."

Sveta cocked her head and narrowed her eyes. "Then why are we having this conversation?"

"Because, my lady, the citizenry are becoming scared. These attacks are becoming more and more frequent, and they are becoming more and more brutal. They are starting to recognize that the arrival of our soldiers means that some among them are not long for this world."

"That would not be true if your men knew how to fight properly, or how to find the monsters when I point out their exact location on a map."

"Firstly, never question the resolve of my troops-"

"I do not question their resolve, I question their ability."

"-AND SECONDLY, I am beginning to believe that perhaps your predictions are not as accurate as they originally seemed, Your Majesty. If you'll forgive my audacity, that is."

General Niko held her gaze with eyes that could freeze Lake Bycal in an instant. Sveta just shrugged it off. She stuck her head out the door, checked on either side as per her habit, and then motioned for him to enter.

"We will speak in private," she said. Niko clanked inside before she slammed the door behind him.

The bedroom was fairly grand, though Sveta had not touched the furnishings in years. The expensive carpet was covered in muddy stains, despite the cleaning staff's best efforts, and the picture frames, chandeliers and elaborate sculptures were all collecting dust. The only things that looked used at all were the bed, unmade, and the chest of drawers, wide open.

Sveta's old travel clothes still hung at the back of the drawers. Her Umbra Gear was not with it; she had given it a place of honor on her wall, and torn down a priceless work of art to put it there. It meant more to her than any of the frivolous embellishments her decorators had decided she would enjoy, though the dark armor clashed horribly with the color of the curtains.

"You have a lot of nerve," Sveta said, gesturing to a chair before sitting at the edge of her bed.

Niko declined the seat, preferring to stand as usual. "Your Majesty, I respect your authority, but my duty is to the people of Morgal just as much as it is to you. If I believe that questioning your orders will save lives, then I'll do so, because that's my job, and if it means I have to risk _upsetting you_, then so be it."

"Meanwhile, I am the Queen of your nation. Your monarch. I can have you executed with a word. I respect your experience and your abilities as a general, but my orders are given with Morgal's best interests in mind. If you work against those interests, I will replace you and have you killed, because that is _my_ job, and the sooner you get used to that, the better."

"I am aware, Your Majesty. That is why I am merely questioning your orders, Your Majesty, and not outright ignoring them."

"Then why?" Sveta asked. "What issue do you take with my commands?"

The General straightened his stance unconsciously, and spoke quickly, in measured breaths, as if reciting information he had spent a great deal of time memorizing, or at least had repeated on several occasions.

"Over the past two years, there have been forty-three documented attacks on the people of Morgal, mostly in outlying settlements. In forty-two of those, the victims were found mutilated, often partially eaten, leading to the suspicion of monsters as the culprits. The first three of these attacks were at seemingly random times and locations, but they were spread out over the course of several months. The attacks began to quicken in pace after that."

Sveta nodded. "Your point?"

"My point, Your Majesty, is that the pace increased after you began to tell us, from your 'outside source,' where the monsters' dens were located. We would proceed to dispatch large numbers of troops to the areas you specified, they would comb the area, and another attack would occur on the citizenry shortly after. It seems to me that the increased number of bodies would, in fact, increase the probability of these attacks occurring."

"You are telling me that the monsters are attracted to the area by the additional soldiers," Sveta finished for him. She stood, approaching him before standing toe-to-toe with him. He was several inches taller than her, but she stared up at him with all the authority she could muster.

"Precisely. I suggest that we pull back our soldiers to Belinsk and see what happens."

"My people will not suffer because yours could not find a carnivorous abomination if they fell into its mouth. The soldiers will stay."

"Your Majesty-"

"_The. Soldiers. Will. Stay."_

"My Queen, I trust you, but we have no guarantee that your source is accurate-"

"My source is my _brother,_ you insolent whelp, and you had best remember it!" Sveta shouted, shoving the General with all of her might. He staggered backward, and his breastplate was partially caved in where she had pushed him. "King Volechek of the Czamaral Clan still cares for his people, and when he tells me that there is a monster den in that area, then I believe him, as should you."

General Niko gathered himself, staring daggers into Sveta's eyes before standing at attention once more.

"The King is dead, Your Majesty. I do not doubt that he cares for Morgal even in the afterlife. What I doubt is that you truly speak for him."

"Spirit Sense, imbecile! Spirit Sense! Volechek had it, my father and mother had it, and I have it too! It is beyond absurd for anyone to believe I cannot communicate with my departed brother, considering that any other member of my family could have done the same!"

"Sveta, please, I'm simply concerned-"

"Silence, General. I have heard enough from you for tonight. You are an asset to our people, and that is why I have endured you up to this point. But the moment you accuse my brother of lying is the moment you have outlived your usefulness. Speak ill of Volechek again and they will be the last words you ever say."

Her arm flung out and her finger pointed at the doorway.

"Out."

General Niko nodded, barely containing his own fury, and resolutely stormed out of her room.

She slammed the door behind him and threw open her curtains.

The sun had finally set, and the color was beginning to fade from the sky. Good. Sveta knew she could only move under the cover of darkness; her psynergy allowed her to travel by night far better than most, and the guards wouldn't be looking for someone moving away from the castle that late.

She cursed Niko for his foolishness. The attacks always happened shortly after the troops' arrival because the troops always arrived almost immediately after the monsters appeared! That was the benefit of heeding Volechek's advice, even if the soldiers themselves were too inept to defend their people.

The first few times, Sveta had not told her General that she felt this way. She had simply gone out on her own, as she had in her adventuring days, and slain the monsters herself. But when the attacks increased in frequency and the curfew had been established, it became more difficult to get out unnoticed, and Sveta became more and more frustrated that it was a job that fell to her instead of the people she had ordered to do it in the first place.

The man had been loyal once. He was still trustworthy, even now. But as they transgressed against each other, the gulf grew and grew until they were at best, grudging co-workers and at worst, hated adversaries. Sveta could not afford to have a hated adversary in charge of her army for much longer.

She prayed that the den she destroyed tonight would be the last.

When she felt it was safe, she donned her Umbra Gear and set out to protect her people.

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><p><em>It is not your fault, Sveta,<em> Volechek assured her.

But as rain and tears streamed down her face, Sveta could scarcely believe him. That night, several weeks prior, she thought she had been victorious. But she must have left too late. The next day, the General received word that another homestead had been attacked, the guards killed, and the defenseless citizens slaughtered within. He made no move immediately, simply recalled his soldiers.

But this time, when Volechek told her of a new infestation near Kolima, Niko had refused to dispatch his men.

"What do I do, brother?" she begged. "I will not have him executed. That is not my way. I will not rule through fear. But I cannot be the country's vigilante. I have other duties. The man is risking the lives of our people, and he is too thickheaded to realize it!"

She raised her hands from the muddy earth and planted her face in them, ignoring the grime that now caked her features. She didn't care about her looks, not right now. The only person who could see her now was Volechek, and he had never been one to judge.

_I trust you, Sveta. You are a talented leader, and you have never failed to find your way out of a situation like this in the past._

"Yes, brother, I have," she said. "I failed, once, to keep the Eclipse Tower from activating. That mistake cost thousands upon thousands of lives, including your own. Back then, I had friends to support me. Now all I have is traitors at every turn. What if General Niko initiates a coup?"

_He will not,_ Volechek replied. _He is loyal, even if he questions your orders. He was loyal to me as well. He is an intelligent man, though, and he hates to have his opinions ignored. You would do well to treat him as an equal._

"Equal or not, he is not on my side," Sveta whispered tearfully. "No one is. No one but you. My people hate and fear me. My friends have forgotten me. All I have left is a job I never wanted, and an endless series of unwinnable battles to face."

_Sveta-_

"Volechek, where did everything go wrong? Why is this happening to me? Do the gods hate me? Did... did I hurt someone? Do I truly deserve this? Why, why, why..."

_Please, sister. It makes me unhappy when I see you unhappy. Cheer up, alright? For me?_

Sveta snorted a laugh, sending flecks of mud and rain flying from around her mouth. "You make it sound so easy."

_Alright, I... well, I was planning to save this for a surprise, but..._

Sveta's ears perked up. She turned to look at her brother's grave marker, urging him wordlessly to continue.

_I will not give all of it away right now, but I have a feeling that you will be getting a visitor soon._

"Who?"

_I shall not tell._

"When?"

_Soon. Very soon._

"But I..." Sveta stopped herself short, unsure of how to react. She wiped some of the mud from her face. "You say it was meant to be a surprise. Is it a good surprise?"

_Very good, I believe. I feel you will be quite satisfied._

"...How long will this visitor be staying?"

_That depends on you._

Sveta's heart began to race. The corners of her mouth began to turn upward. "Volechek, you have successfully gotten my hopes up. If it is not one of my friends, I hope you realize that I will be very disappointed."

_You know how I hate to disappoint you._

Sveta grinned wildly, smiling all over for the first time in what seemed like ages.

_I, ah... well, perhaps I should mention that I do not watch over you all the time. Most of the day, yes, but whenever you need privacy, I avert my eyes, figuratively speaking._

"I assumed as much, but... why tell me now?"

_No reason in particular. _

"Fine, be that way-"

She stopped. She heard voices coming from the path.

_No need to worry, sister,_ Volechek said. _They mean you no harm, but it looks like our meeting is at an end. I will see you tomorrow if the opportunity arises, alright?_

"Volechek, wait-"

"Your Majesty? It's getting late, and the general sent us to escort you home."

Sveta began to wipe her hands on the rock behind her, but thought better of it. It would be very rude of her to make her brother's gravestone dirty. Instead, she tried her best to wipe her palms on the grass, and then used the backs of her hands to clear as much grime as possible from her face. When she was satisfied, she slowly rose to her feet.

"I was nearly finished anyway," she said to the two men, weapons drawn. They visibly relaxed; Sveta was certain that the order had been worded to specifically ignore her preference in the matter. "Lead on, and tell your general when you see him that I made no effort to resist you. I, for one, am in no hurry to see my people come to harm."

The soldiers glanced at each other, but made no comment. They simply waited for her to join them, and then flanked her all the way to the castle gates.

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><p>While she was never officially told to stay in her room, the implication was clear. The General didn't want her interfering anymore. If Volechek was right, he would back off when his plan failed. If not...<p>

Sveta sighed as she sank into her bedsheets. She hoped that this visitor she was supposed to see didn't end up getting turned away at the door. Volechek had seemed fairly confident about this, too, confident enough to call it a "surprise," but he wasn't always right. It would break her heart to know that that traitor had prevented her from seeing a friendly face for the first time in years.

The rain continued to pelt against her window. The storm had intensified to the point where she could barely hear anything but the weather. There were frequent flashes of light, followed quickly by the roar of thunder. She felt it rumbling, the sound deep enough to shake her to her very core. Even with her Jupiter alignment, and the natural affinity for electricity and wind that came with it, the thunder awoke the primal fear in her heart, the same fear in every being's heart, of an unknown, implacable danger. She knew, consciously, that she was safe.

But she didn't feel safe. She felt vulnerable. She felt doleful. And she felt very, very alone.

When she thought she heard a clamor sometime later, somewhere lower in the castle, she let her hopes rise. Was there cause for excitement? Perhaps some visitor had come, requesting an audience? And perhaps the servants were falling over themselves trying to give the visitor what they desired!

Sveta got to her feet, ran to the mirror, and checked her reflection. She smoothed out her hair and clothing. She looked over herself quickly, making sure every part of her outfit matched. She flashed herself several expressions – serene joy, noble curiosity, coy wit, among others – and tried to decide on how best to present herself. It wouldn't do to wear her heart on her sleeve. Showing how truly, truly excited she was to finally see someone would undermine her royal image and destroy her dignity, or whatever was left of it.

As she did this, she listened carefully for the sound of footsteps approaching her door, and continued to polish her self-image as long as the silence persisted. But as time went on, and her clothing was smoothed and re-smoothed, and her poise and body language approached the stuff of legends, she began to suspect that no footsteps were coming. Her heart sank.

The commotion seemed to have died down to nothing, but it was still pouring outside. Perhaps she couldn't hear it anymore? She made her way to her door and opened it cautiously.

The two soldiers posted there jumped in surprise, as did Sveta. She hadn't told anyone to guard her door.

"Your Majesty!" one of them said, standing at attention. "Is there anything you need?"

Sveta hesitated, trying to think of why the men would be there. The obvious reason immediately came to mind, but she was trying to find a way to relieve her fears.

She needed to know. She asked, "What are you doing here? I did not request a bodyguard detail."

The guard who had spoken earlier saluted. "General's orders, Your Majesty. It is unsafe for you to leave your room. If you need anything, you may ask one of us to get it for you. Otherwise, you'll be woken for breakfast in the morning."

Sveta narrowed her eyes.

"So I am to be a prisoner in my own home? Wonderful. Tell my _beloved General_ that if he wants the throne, he will have to pry it from my cold, dead hands. But of course he already knows that, if he is already initiating a coup."

The guards looked at each other nervously. A wordless discussion took place between them in the space of a moment, and the same speaker answered her.

"D-duly noted, Your Majesty. You have my word that-"

"Irrelevant. Has anyone come by for me?" Sveta asked.

"What?"

"I am expecting a visitor," she clarified, "maybe more than one. Is there any news?"

The guard shook his head. "Nothing yet, Your Majesty."

"Then leave."

"...Beg your pardon?"

"You heard me," Sveta said. "Go. Out. Find somewhere else to stand. I do not need you listening to every move I make in the privacy of my own room. If anyone requests an audience, you have my permission to knock."

"But the General-"

"GO."

Sveta stood, fangs bared and arms folded, until the soldiers shuffled uneasily to the far end of the hallway. They were still within sight of the doorway, but at least it felt like Sveta was alone again.

She gave them one final look – an expression she had perfected years previous, her I'm-The-Boss expression – and, when she was satisfied that they would stay put, she reentered her room and locked the door.

She slowly, methodically undressed, folding her clothing in a neat pile near her wardrobe, though she didn't remove her underwear. She then went to the mirror and gently unbraided her hair. It fell loosely past her knees, and she stroked it idly for a minute or so.

Very quietly, she went back to her door. She unlocked it and peeked outside. With a sigh of relief, she saw the guards still at their new posts at the end of the hall. She closed and locked it once more.

And then she collapsed into her bed and began to cry.

She cried far too often for a woman of her stature. But few others had to deal with the same problems as her. Satisfied that the guards were too far away to hear, and that the thunder and rain would cover any sounds that escaped, she let her emotions run free. She shouted in anger, howled mournfully, and screamed with impotent sorrow.

There was nothing right in her life. Nothing even remotely _okay._ She should have run away, all those years ago, with Matthew and the others. Her people could survive on her own. They could find their own leadership. Who would ever need to know that one of the Czamaral children survived the battle atop the Apollo Lens? But it was too late. She had chosen the path of self-sacrifice. It had already taken everything from her-

**TAP. TAP. TAP.**

She froze.

She listened.

That had not been rain.

**TAPTAPTAP. **

She slowly moved her head so that one eye was peeking out from the pillow.

There was a silhouette at the window.

A _familiar_ one.

**KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.**

She jumped out of bed, ran to the window, and tapped back. The silhouette sank below the windowsill for a moment, and then she opened the window wide. She took the wind and rain in stride. It was worth it just for a moment.

"Hey, Sveta. Am I interrupting anything?"

She grabbed both of her guest's hands and pulled him into the room. The man stumbled awkwardly upon landing, leaning upon her for support and almost bowling her over onto the bed, but he caught himself. He ran his fingers through his wet, blonde hair, and adjusted his denim jacket, the same one he had worn all those years ago. He loosened his scarf before closing the window behind him.

Once she was sure she wouldn't knock him back out of the portal, Sveta tackled Matthew and enveloped him in the most undignified, informal hug she could accomplish.

She buried her face in his chest. "Oh, Matthew," she said, "how I have missed you..."

Matthew gingerly returned the hug, but he kept his hands at shoulder level. His fingers gently lighted on her newly-damp fur, awkwardly and indecisively, before he pulled away.

"Uh, I'm sorry I caught you in, umm, a compromising position," he said. "Wanna get dressed or something before we talk?"

Sveta's ears twitched in surprise as she realized that she was still clad only in her underwear. Her eyes darted shyly up to his, but she resisted the urge to cover herself.

Instead, she stood up straighter, folding her hands behind her back, and perhaps pushing her chest out just a little.

"Oh, come now, we are friends, are we not? You have seen me change clothing before," she said with a wry smile.

Matthew was blushing visibly. "Well... kinda, yeah, but I've never... umm, I mean... this MUCH of you..."

Sveta shrugged. "I am fine like this, but if you want me to dress..."

"N-no! I mean, if you're comfortable in... in damp underwear-"

"I would be more comfortable out of it, to be honest," she said, leaving the implications hanging. "What about you? You should take off some of your outerwear. What were you thinking, coming up through the rain like that? You could catch cold."

Matthew kept his eyes locked solely on Sveta's face as he took off his scarf and jacket. His undershirt and pants were soaked as well, but he made no move to take them off.

Sveta gracefully tiptoed to her bed and sat down, crossing her legs very deliberately. She patted the spot next to her on the bed, and he hurried over. She stopped him before he sat down and gestured to his pants.

"I would rather not let my bedsheets get wet," she said. "You have underwear, do you not?"

Matthew blushed fiercely, nodded again, and, after a moment of mental preparation, took his pants off, leaving only a pair of loose boxers.

In the instant that he turned his back to sit down, Sveta took in as much as possible. She grinned happily.

"So, I'm sorry to pop in unannounced," Matthew said, "and I wouldn't have come through the window normally. I actually came to the front gates and they said you weren't taking visitors. But I heard some rumors while I was here, and... well, I needed to see for myself. Is everything okay?"

Sveta shook her head sadly. "No," she said simply. "Thank you so much for coming. I missed you."

Matthew's eyes reflected her heartbreak. "I know it seems weird, showing up out of the blue after four years. I... I really regret not writing, and not visiting, but... but I just couldn't find the words to..."

As he trailed off, Sveta shifted closer. She gently put an arm around his waist.

"The fact that you arrived at all pleases me greatly," she said. She rested her head against his shoulder, gently at first, as if asking for permission, and then harder when he made no move to stop her. "It is lonely here. So very, very lonely."

"So you're okay? That I'm here, I mean? You're okay that I came in through the window while you were undressed?" Matthew asked hopefully.

Sveta raised her head and met his eyes. "You are a very nice surprise, Matthew," she said. "The best surprise I could ask for. But surely you did not come all this way, for the first time in so many years, just to say hello...?"

Matthew nodded, and took a deep breath. She felt him shiver. Then he took his hands and placed them on her shoulders.

"I... okay, I practiced this," he said. "I... I value our friendship, and I would hate to do anything to ruin it. But all this time since I saw you... it's been tearing me apart. I don't want to set this visit off with a bad start, but..."

"Spit it out, Matthew," Sveta breathed. "Just say what you need to say."

He leaned in closer. She put her hands on his shoulders as well, mirroring his every movement.

"Sveta, I..." he started. "I mean, do you... are you okay with..."

They inched closer and closer. Their eyelids dropped ever so slightly as their lips came closer together.

Then, in an instant, they kissed. It was gentle, at first. Then it became more and more insistent as they pulled each other into it, pressing into each other, hungry for more. Sveta pushed her tongue into Matthew's mouth as he guided her down onto her back on the bed. He straddled her, never breaking the kiss, until they both had to pull away for air.

"Oh gods, Sveta, _I want you,_" Matthew gasped.

"Take your stupid shirt off!" Sveta shot back. "It is in the way."

As they each let their more base instincts take over, Sveta realized what a very, very nice surprise this was indeed.

* * *

><p>When Sveta woke up, she found that Matthew had left her alone again. His clothes were gone as if they had never been there, and there was water near the window from when it had been opened the night before.<p>

For a brief instant, she was furious that he would turn his back on her like that. But then she calmed herself; when she said it, she obviously hadn't meant it literally. Matthew probably understood that. He might have stepped out to go to the washroom, or perhaps for breakfast. Or, rather more likely, he had left early in the morning, knowing of the trouble that could occur if he was caught in the Queen's bed.

She smiled softly against the pillow. If she knew him – and she did – he would find a way to meet up with her again later, probably with some extravagant gift or other profession of love for her. There was no rush. She would look for word of him anyway, and perhaps bring him along on her next visit to Volechek, but she trusted him implicitly. Matthew was hers, after all.

Her heart warmed at the thought of making him her King. She would do it as soon as she possibly could. In fact, with his help, she could convince that bastard General of her own sanity and regain control of the kingdom. They would rule it together as husband and wife.

And then, every night, they would work vigorously to produce an heir or twelve. Sveta felt a tingling of excitement.

She let her mind - and her fingers - wander.

* * *

><p>The servants, citizens, and other denizens of the castle found themselves somewhat uneasy at their queen's sudden change of mood. On one hand, it was a relief to see her happy for the first time in several years; the crushing depression that had enveloped the once-pleasant girl seemed to be contagious, and having it gone felt like having a rock crushing them to death, then suddenly vanishing into thin air.<p>

On the other hand, Queen Sveta would give no reason for her sunny disposition. When asked – and she _was_ asked, over and over again – she would simply give a coy smile and say, "Oh, no reason." Something was obviously different, and it was terrifying to know that the Mad Queen didn't want to share the source of her contentment with the general population. Rumors began to circulate almost as soon as Her Majesty left her room that morning. Was she planning to perform some dark ritual? Would she be sacrificing the population of Belinsk to some horrible elder gods? For what purposes? Power? Immortality?

If Sveta heard the rumors, she gave no indication.

The rest of the day was mostly spent with the usual brand of government work. In the past, she had often delegated the work to others, but today she seemed highly motivated to make everything perfect. She worked faster and harder than she ever had in recent memory, and when there was nothing else to do, she took to the city streets. She visited taverns and inns, bodyguard in tow, and mingled with a very nervous population.

Nervous at first.

But when she opened up, she seemed normal. She seemed sane. Everyone agreed that she was a fantastic person to talk to. Some even argued that it must not have been Queen Sveta; perhaps an impostor, hired to improve public opinion, or an actress drumming up fervor about an upcoming play at the opera house. But real or not, where Sveta went, happiness bloomed. Sunshine followed in her footsteps. For perhaps the first time since the Grave Eclipse, the grim, neglected city of Belinsk felt the touch of hope.

And then Queen Sveta made her daily trek to the forest clearing.

* * *

><p>"Volechek, <em>you know something!<em>" she accused. She blinked back tears and forced the panic from her voice. Her escort was too far away to hear her, but she wasn't concerned about them. Her brother took up all of her focus for the time being. She knew that if he thought she was worried, he would hide the truth, as always.

_Sister... please._ The voice held an unmistakeable note of worry behind the calm, even tone. _It would be better if you left this alone. Just... he went home. That is all you need to know._

Sveta pounded the stone with a clenched fist. "Stop lying to me!" she spat. "Matthew would not leave me. He came all this way so we could be together. You were not there. You were not watching. It was unmistakeable. We were to be together forever. He would NOT go home without telling me so." Her hands shook. Her eyes watered. Her teeth were clenched and her lips were pursed.

_You cannot handle the truth!_ Volechek roared in Sveta's mind. _For the first time since my death, you are happy. I will not ruin that. Not for something as petty as "the truth" -_

"But I shall not be happy living a lie!"

_Find someone else! Move on with your life!_

"THERE. IS. NO. ONE. ELSE." Sveta's fury was barely contained, and it took all of her willpower to keep her mind under control. Any further and she might shapeshift unwillingly, and that could be disastrous. Plus, without her focus, she would be unable to commune with Volechek.

She dearly wished he was alive, if only so that she could hit him for being so bloody stubborn.

"I do not believe that he has gone home," she repeated. "I will never believe that. There is no one else for him, and no one else for me. We will be together FOREVER. He is MINE, and if you do not tell me what happened to him, I will not move on. I will not find another. I will simply wait impatiently for his return for the rest of my life-"

_Better than knowing he shall not return at all._

Sveta's breath caught.

For several seconds, the planet was empty. It was devoid of life.

There were no birds, no trees, no woodland creatures.

There was no noise. There was no air.

She was alone.

Something deep within her broke.

"Explain," she said simply.

_...I... I just... I did not mean to-_

"Brother, I have nothing to threaten you with. I have no way to reason with you. I am at your mercy," she begged. "Tell me the truth. There is nothing else for me."

_Sveta... sister..._

She let her head fall forward until it touched the stone. She shut her eyes very tightly. She didn't even want to acknowledge the world that had betrayed her so.

"Where... what happened to my love?" she whispered. "Where did he go this morning? Tell me... tell me how it happened."

There was a long pause before her brother's voice began speaking.

_He woke early, and left through the window,_ Volechek said. _He... he was planning to surprise you. He went directly to Kolima to pick some rare flowers for you. He had come to Belinsk unarmed, and... he did not know about the monsters._

"He was an Adept," Sveta replied slowly. "He could never be unarmed. Not while his mind was his own."

_He was taken by surprise. Sveta, I am sorry, but that is simply how it happened-_

"I believe you," she said tonelessly. "Thank you for telling the truth."

She slumped against the stone. All of her strength was gone.

She wanted to cry, but she lacked even the energy for that.

"I am not allowed to be happy," she said. "Everyone I love leaves me. My people fear me. My general plots against me. The world hates me."

_...That is not true._

"It should have been me to die atop the Lens, Volechek," Sveta said. "I would not have been missed."

_But you would have. _I _would have missed you. And Weyard would have suffered from my fury. Because, dear sister, even when you have lost everything else... you will always have revenge._

Sveta's eyes snapped open.

"...Revenge..." she whispered, tasting the word on her tongue. Savoring it.

_You know where the monsters lie. You know your armies will not be able to handle them._

Flames lept into her eyes as her claws left long gouges in the stone. "...Revenge...!" she hissed.

_Find them, sister. Make them know your pain. Kill every last one._

She dragged herself slowly to her feet.

_Do it for me. And do it for your lost love._

A slow smile came to her face.

_It is the only responsible thing to do._

"Gladly, dear brother," she said.

* * *

><p>She had gone straight to her room.<p>

She had sat in front of the window and waited.

She watched until the sun fell below the horizon.

She listened until there were no sounds but that of the evening. Until the moon was high in the sky and the stars twinkled before her.

And then she donned her armor.

* * *

><p>Volechek had given her everything. He told her the directions to follow, landmarks to watch for, and ideal routes of attack. He also told her probable lanes of escape for the creatures, and the best way to go around and catch them from the other side.<p>

There would be no stopping her. These creatures were terrifying her people. They held no value. They had to be purged from Weyard for all eternity.

So when she approached the den – it was located near a small town in the outskirts of Kolima Forest, far away from Kolima City itself – she caught the scent of her quarry, and let her anger take control. She shapeshifted, her magically enhanced muscles pressing against the Umbra Gear, and her appearance taking on the aspect of the noble wolf. She ran her tongue over her canine teeth, relishing the chance to finally put them to use.

The creatures were roughly the size of humans or beastmen. They had a fairly typical social structure, with the vulnerable ones hidden within dens while the predators stood guard outside. The predators had swordlike claws, spearlike teeth, and armored shells as thick as platemail. They stood on their hind legs, and they had impressive pack intelligence.

But they were no match for Sveta even at their best, and she had the element of surprise.

She pounced out of the woods, landing directly on the first creature she saw. It had no time to raise its claws to defend; when they hit the ground, Sveta landed on top, and the first thing she did was thrust her fist through the monster's chest. She pulled out its still-beating heart and squeezed it to a pulp before the creature's eyes as the light faded from them.

The other monsters encircled her.

She threw back her head and howled.

She sensed movement behind her, and as one of the monsters came to attack her, she spun to face it. A claw flew toward her, but it seemed to be in slow motion; Sveta knocked it aside, and clawed out the thing's exposed throat with a single swipe. It dropped to the ground.

While the others stood, stunned, she took the initiative, blasting the others with a quick series of lightning strikes. The sound drew a lot of attention, and the monster den exploded into life.

She dashed toward the first structure she saw, a monster shelter constructed out of wood. No point waiting for more predators to arrive.

She smashed through the entrance, scattering splinters all around. Immediately identifying a small group of the more vulnerable class of the species, Sveta launched herself at the biggest one. It had no weapons worth noting, and no protective shell. It was helpless.

She eviscerated it while its three children watched. She scattered its mutilated entrails to and fro.

"HRAAAHROOOOOOOO!" she howled. _Matthew,_ she would have said, had she the capacity to speak in that form.

She sank her teeth into the creature's throat, tore out its flesh, chewed, and swallowed. It tasted terrible, but it was not about eating. It was more about the insult it represented. _You are nothing more than a meal to me_, the gesture said. _You are nothing. You do not belong in this world._

When Sveta turned away, the creature's children were gone. But she had their scent.

She found all of them in less than a minute.

* * *

><p>It went on like this for a short while. There were shelters all around the den site, and pockets of the predator species had organized around her to restrict her movement. But all they did was slow Sveta down.<p>

Some of them ran, but she was always faster.

Soon, there was very little in the area but bodies and the smell of blood. She was not tidy in her killings. They did not deserve the dignity of _neatness._

Not all the bodies were from the armored, threatening creatures. She had killed the helpless ones, too. Once, she might have let them live. She might have let them escape, knowing that they could not fight back. But her Matthew had been helpless too. These creatures were simply getting their due.

It wasn't until the final shelter that anything notable happened.

There was just one final opponent guarding the door. The others had all been killed, by claw or tooth or lightning or wind. A sane being would have been shaken; it was a testament to its inhumanity that the monster showed no fear. It held its single sharp claw menacingly, as if it stood a chance.

Sveta roared triumphantly in its face.

It took a defensive stance, but it made no difference. Sveta knocked it against the ground, and it landed with a series of loud, metallic clanks as the pieces of its shell rattled together. Its claw broke upon landing, the bladed edge spinning into the darkness. Sveta pounced on it, pinning it to the ground.

She met its eyes, savoring this final victory. There were more inside the shelter, but they were defenseless. There would be no triumph there, only the completion of a task. This, however, would have been a danger to a normal being. She had competed with it, and dominated it.

She would kill it slowly, painfully, so it might know a fraction of her agony.

She tore the armored shell off of its head, shuddering at the screeching of metal. The eyes beneath it glared back in defiance. Good; it was more satisfying that way. She dragged her claws across its face deep enough that blood immediately began to pour out of the wounds.

It growled in pain. It struggled with its left arm, trying to find some handhold to escape or some way to turn the tide.

Sveta grabbed the arm and tore it out of its socket, throwing it aside. The creature screamed.

She laughed. This was going to be fun. But as she took in the sight of its bleeding face and stump, deciding where to go next, something felt... wrong.

Her long, shaggy fur began to recede, and her muzzle began to sink back into her face. Her armor suddenly felt much more loose, and as her enhanced strength vanished, she felt weak as a child.

With her Djinn exhausted, her shape had returned to normal.

The night of fighting had left her drained. She panted heavily, coated in gore and feeling much worse for wear. But the creature beneath her still could make no move against her.

She looked into its eyes and saw despair. Despair, and... recognition, perhaps?

"...You...!" she began. She wanted to utter some kind of mortal threat, some promise to end its life. But without the strength of her beastform, she could not penetrate its shell. She could strangle it, perhaps, but then she would not be able to restrain it as effectively, and it might regain the upper hand. She couldn't even go after the helpless monsters it had been defending; if the predator could regain its footing, she might not be able to hold it off.

But this one would bleed to death in time anyway. Without human medicine, a savage beast could not hope to survive a lost limb like this. And without a protector, the others would fall to the elements on their own. The job was done.

Sveta leaped off her prey and dashed off into the night.

* * *

><p><em>You did well, sister,<em> Volechek said as Sveta sat beneath the pale moonlight. _I am proud of you. Matthew is, too. He is sorry he could not be there in the flesh._

"Tell him I miss him," Sveta replied, "and that I wish the monsters had not eaten his corpse. If I could commune with him, it might have given me a reason to go on beyond tonight."

_Beyond tonight? Sveta, what do you mean?_

She laughed. It was a carefree, heartbroken laugh. A laugh of futility. "I mean exactly what you think, dear brother. There is nothing left for me here. You have passed on. My soulmate was taken from me. Let that bastard Niko have his throne, I care not. If the only alternative is to live an empty life, I would rather not live at all. This is the end for me."

_No! Wait, please... please be reasonable!_ Volechek's pleas went unheeded, however, as Sveta just let her head fall back against the stone, laughing and crying at the same time.

"I have had my revenge. Those monsters will not plague my people anymore. And with this, they will have a leader who actually wishes to lead."

An odd thought came into her head, and her ears flicked in response. A flood of memories poured forth.

_...and when she opened the envelope, her first letter from Karis in weeks, her eyes widened. The letter was colorful and elaborate, but the words themselves broke her heart. "You are cordially invited to the union of..."_

She blocked it off. No, no. She couldn't go back down that road. What road? There was no road. Any memories like that would just be absurd. Everything was okay.

"I... I mean..." she began shakily. What had she been talking about? It was all so... hazy...

_...clothes torn from the blind run through the woods, she collapsed, sobbing, against this odd rock formation. Nothing mattered anymore. She looked to the blade she had taken from the kitchen, reflecting the beautiful stars above, and turned it over in her hands, gathering the courage to do what she had come to do. It was the only way to stop the pain..._

She blinked several times. The conversation forgotten, she looked down at herself, clad in the bloody Umbra Gear. These weren't the robes she had just pictured herself in. What was going on?

On a whim, she crawled around to the other side of the rock, found a spot of dirt, and carefully began to dig. There was something about this area that, while it did not visibly stand out at all, drew her attention like nothing else.

She felt a sharp prick on her finger and stopped. She brushed aside some more of the dirt, and drew out her prize.

There, lying buried an inch below the surface, was a knife, dulled and rusted through years of exposure.

It... it was...

_...and of course, she hadn't spoken to him since. She knew he had tried to be understanding, but he was just so... dismissive! She had brought him to speak with Volechek, too, and he claimed to hear nothing! He was a stubborn ass. She loved him, she supposed, but he was still a _stubborn ass._ He needed to be taught a lesson. And so she had removed the ring from her finger and placed it on her nightstand for it to collect dust until he came to his senses. She hadn't worn it since, just as its twin had never been removed from the hand of her husband since the day of their marriage..._

"...V-Volechek?" Sveta called gingerly.

There was no answer.

"Volechek? Brother?" she asked again. "Are you still there?"

Crickets chirped.

"Please! Please answer me!" she cried. "Volechek, my brother, I cannot... I cannot exist if..."

_I am here, sister,_ she heard. _Please calm down. Do not do anything rash._

She sighed in relief. Of course. He was still here, as always.

Of course he was. This was a world where she could communicate with her brother from beyond the grave. And yes, her Matthew was dead, but he had died proving his love for her. Those were the only realities she needed.

"...I cannot be happy here," Sveta said. "The world of the living no longer holds any appeal for me."

_Sveta, I..._ Volechek began. He hesitated, and she felt something that she registered as a deep breath from him. _Sister, you are free to make your own decisions. I feel you still deserve to have a long life ahead of you._

"Will I be able to see you again in the next world, brother?" she asked. "And Matthew? And mother, and father, and all the others I have lost over the years?"

_...Yes. Yes, you will be reunited with us when your time comes._

Sveta smiled faintly. "Then I feel that time must be now. I am sorry to go against your wishes again, but..."

_No, I understand. This is what you want. You have always been strong-willed. I want for you to be happy, and I think there is potential for that left in this world, but... it is up to you._

"Thank you, Volechek," she said. She let one final tear fall from her face, and then brought the rusted knife to her neck.

_Godspeed, Sveta,_ Volechek whispered.

She giggled. "See you soon, brother!" she called cheerfully.

And then she slashed her throat.

The world went dark, but she saw a dim light, and as she gave her last breath, she could swear she felt a pair of loving, comforting arms wrapping around her...

* * *

><p>Karis swirled the drink idly in her glass, watching it ripple and splash but not feeling much like drinking it.<p>

A few of the others had gathered together and were talking about the good old days, sharing their favorite memories of the late Queen. Tyrell made his way from Kalay, Rief had come down from Imil, Amiti was visiting from Ayuthay, and even Eoleo and Himi had made the trip to Belinsk to see their old friend off. But try as she might, Karis couldn't bring herself to join them. It hurt too badly, and remembering their adventures did nothing to dull the pain.

The casket was still open nearby, but she couldn't look at it. She had cried for a long time already. Sveta's body looked so... peaceful, yet so sad. It seemed like only yesterday that they had been marching atop the Endless Wall, hopeful and confident in their upcoming victory over the Tuaparang.

And now she was dead. Suicide, apparently. Karis didn't know what to think. She should have reached out to Sveta at some point. If things had gone differently...

She pushed those thoughts out of her head. There was no use dwelling on it. It would only make her feel worse, and it wouldn't bring Sveta back.

Her eyes wandered over to the casket, despite her intentions, and settled on the figure standing over it. She had only seen the man for the first time the previous day. He hadn't been crowned yet, but the future King Niko had apparently been the true power behind the throne for some time. He wore the responsibility with dignity, even infirm as he was.

His royal clothes did a fine job of hiding the bandages on his body, and the ones on his face had been removed long before.

Karis found herself walking toward him. She didn't quite know why. Perhaps it was the way he was standing there, sombre and heartbroken, that made her take pity on him. Or maybe she just wanted to speak with someone in a similar mindset until her husband returned.

Either way, she waved sadly as he turned toward her, hearing her approach.

"Greetings, Your Majesty. I'm Karis of Kalay," she said. "I'm sorry for your loss. Sveta was... well, my best friend, for a time. We lost touch. I wish we hadn't."

Niko nodded. "She talked about you, back then," he said. "Back before... well, you know. You've probably heard rumors."

Karis nodded. "I have," she said carefully. "I don't put much stock in them. It just seems so unlike her..."

Niko laughed heartily, and then stopped, interrupted by a coughing fit. "Lady Karis, it's with great shame that I tell you the rumors are almost entirely true. To say that Sveta didn't take her brother's death very well would be the greatest understatement ever made. Oww..." He rubbed his chest with his sole remaining hand.

"Are you okay?" Karis asked. "Are you sure you should be up so soon after-"

"No, no, it's fine," Niko said, waving away her concerns. "I just... I needed to see her, this one last time. I had to see her as she was."

"Well, if you're sure... we have two highly competent healers a short distance away anyway, in case of an emergency. But yes, you were saying...?"

"Right. Sveta's... oddities," Niko said carefully. "She was hit hard by depression. As a former soldier in her brother's army, I had had plenty of chances to see her as I grew up, and I had become rather, ah, attached to her. I hated to see her that way. I tried my best to comfort her, but she would have none of it. It got worse and worse, until one night, I noticed she had run off. I followed her into a nearby forest, and... she was holding a knife she had stolen from the kitchen. She planned to take her own life.

"So I approached her, and I tried to talk her through it. She was crying hysterically and babbling about... something or other. To be honest, I still don't know quite what she was talking about. But eventually she dropped the knife. All she seemed to want was the comfort of a friendly face, and, well, one thing led to another. We got married rather quickly afterward, and I thought our problems were over... for a little while.

"One night, she told me she had been speaking to her brother. I was confused, at first; I reminded her, gently, that he was dead and gone, but she didn't care. She was chattering excitedly about how he was so proud of what she had done with _this_, and how he had an idea for how to do _that_ more effectively... I couldn't persuade her that she was imagining things, and the mere suggestion made her furious."

Karis frowned. "But, Your Majesty... Sveta COULD speak to people from beyond the grave. She had a psynergy talent known as Spirit Sense that could-"

"No, I know about Spirit Sense," Niko interrupted. "Trust me. I know all about it. Sveta let me know, in no uncertain terms, that that was what she was using. But..."

He put his hand on his heavily scarred face. "Spirit Sense requires a body. Volechek left no remains. Even if he had... Sveta claimed to be speaking with him at some oddly shaped rock. The same one I had found her lying against the night she planned to kill herself, actually. For some reason she had convinced herself it was his grave marker, but why would we have buried Morgal's greatest king in an unmarked plot outside the city? We built a statue of him in the town square, for gods' sake."

"...Oh," Karis said. She shifted uncomfortably.

Niko shrugged. "So, yes. She was furious with me. I almost regret denying her, but I worry that her psychosis might have gone even further if I had gone along with it. And anyway, I was young and foolish – well, not that much younger, admittedly. Probably not much more foolish. But when she shouted, I shouted back, and eventually it got to the point where she pulled her wedding ring off her finger and set it aside. She hadn't worn it in almost three years by the time she died. She hasn't even acknowledged that we're married in a year and a half. Of course she knew – in her more lucid moments, she would let things slip, sarcastically calling me her beloved and whatnot – but it's been a long time since she loved me like I loved her."

Karis put a hand on Niko's shoulder, patting it sympathetically. "I'm sure she felt something, Your Majesty. Sveta isn't... w-well, wasn't... the kind of girl to do that. She could hold a grudge, but..."

Niko smiled. "Thank you," he said. "I'm not sure if I believe you, but that means a lot to me."

"I know what it's like to be married," Karis said. "I love my husband more than anything in the world, and I feel blessed to be carrying his child." She rubbed her belly, visibly several months pregnant, and then glanced in the direction of her friends. "He'll be along shortly, I think."

"I'd love to meet him. Sveta spoke quite highly of him."

"Ah, here he is." Karis waved a hand in the air. "Come on over! The King was just filling me in on what Sveta had been up to for the past little while.

The approaching man nodded quietly and shyly at her voice. He walked briskly, his blonde hair stiff and spiky despite his rapid movement, and extended a hand toward the king.

"Niko, this is Matthew," said Karis, "my husband."

Niko took the hand and shook it. "Pleasure to meet you."

Matthew smiled sadly and nodded. He said nothing.

"Sorry, he can be quiet sometimes," Karis said, "but he's such a sweetheart. He hasn't left my side for more than an hour since I told him I was pregnant. I don't know what I'd do without him."

Niko glanced at the casket. "...I'm sure you'd get by," he whispered.

* * *

><p>Niko stayed by Sveta's side long after the other guests had left. His conversation with Karis and Matthew hadn't lasted much beyond that introduction; Matthew hadn't said a single word the entire time, and it was somewhat unsettling. There was little to talk about besides the deceased Queen anyway.<p>

She had been dressed in an expensive outfit for her viewing, carefully selected to have a high neck. Niko knew exactly where the wound was, of course; he had been the one to find her body. He carefully drew the cloth back and looked one last time at the damaged skin, so otherwise-flawless beneath her beautiful, velvety fur. Gods, he missed her.

But it was for the best.

He had suspected for some time that his wife was behind the killings. He still didn't know whether or not she had even been aware of the fact; the poor girl had been deep in delusion, too far gone to be worth the effort of deciphering for quite some time. But that had been the point of his last gambit.

He had gone to her with a flimsy story about the creature being attracted to dense populations, using it as an excuse to tell her he was pulling his men back. In reality, of course, the troop movement reports he had given her were false; not only was he sending reinforcements to the "monster den" she had pointed out, but he had gone there himself to oversee the operation. He had left his men behind to watch her, making sure that she couldn't find the chance to slip out of the castle to commit her murders.

Even now, a week or two after the incident, Niko found himself waking up from nightmares about that fateful evening. He suspected he would never fully recover.

The closest population center to "Volechek's" co-ordinates was a small town. Woodburg, or Woodstock, or something. It didn't matter anymore. Because that night, every man, woman and child in the village had been slaughtered, except for Niko himself and one family he had managed to defend.

He had gotten lucky, he supposed. If Sveta's shapeshifting talent hadn't failed at the last moment, he would be dead. As it was, his face was scarred for life by her sharp claws... and she had literally torn his arm off. It, along with the ring still sitting on the third finger, had been lost at some point in the cleanup.

When Sveta had returned to her beastman form, her fur still thoroughly matted with blood, her expression hadn't changed. She had wanted him dead. Any love for him she had previously had was long gone.

That assumed she had loved him in the first place, of course. Her first suicide attempt happened the night she received Matthew and Karis's wedding invitation.

But Niko didn't care if his feelings had ever been reciprocated. He lived for Sveta. Everything he did was for her sake. Even the sacrifices he made to test her connections to the killings were done so that he could protect her properly. He could have found a way to let her satisfy her murderous urges in secret, maybe...

It didn't matter, in the end. On that fateful night, when he had finally escorted the sole surviving family to the closest military HQ, he passed out almost immediately, and when he woke up, all discussion was centered on the missing Queen. He knew her better than anyone else, of course, and immediately went to the oddly-shaped stone to find her body before anyone else could.

He supposed that in her last moments, she might have felt remorse. Perhaps seeing his face had awoken something in her, something that had been asleep for a long, long time. It could not have been a coincidence that she chose to finally take her own life that night. Only a small amount of the blood that covered her had been her own. To anyone else, it might have been considered justice.

For Niko's part, he removed her armor and cleaned up the blood as well as he could. No one had seen her in that town but him and lived. There were no other witnesses.

When he brought her body back to the city, he supposed that some people might have assumed he had killed her. It certainly looked like he had.

It bothered him that nobody cared to challenge him.

He bent down and touched his wife's cheek. He had been her only ally in the world, whether she realized it or not. And he would continue to be. He was king of Morgal now. He would make sure no one ever found out about her misdeeds. History would not remember Sveta Czamaral to be a monster.

"I wish I could have made it all better," he whispered to her. "I would have given everything. I would trade my life for yours in an instant. And... if I could give you your Matthew, I would."

He kissed her goodbye.

...Her lips were very, very cold.

"Goodbye, Sveta," he said. "You will always be my Queen."

With eyes full of tears and a heart full of regret, King Niko of Morgal began the lonely walk back to his castle.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Again, please, no spoilers in your reviews!<strong>_

* * *

><p><em>The, er, "monster den" scene might have been a little excessive, but that was kinda the point. By then, I expect a lot of you might have had some idea what was going on, and if not, then it would only have strengthened the reveal that immediately followed.<em>

_Anyway._

_This sort of arose because I noticed that I had made Sveta sort of, well, _clingy_ in Drops of Jupiter. As a thought experiment, I cranked it up to 11 and watched where it went. This is what came out. I had fun writing it, dark and depressing though it was._

_One final reminder: PLEASE don't put spoilers in your reviews! This is the kind of story that reads VERY differently when you know what's going on, and I want people to be able to experience that initial, confused readthrough._

_On that note, though, I'd love to hear when people started to figure out what was going on. Was it obvious from the start? Did the reveal come as a complete surprise? Or did you sort of suspect, in the back of your mind, right until the hints started putting all the pieces in place? I'd love to know. It'll help me write these kinds of twists more effectively in the future._

_Thanks for reading!_

_EDIT: FOR JANUARY 11TH: There used to be an explicit sex scene in this story. It's gone now. I wrote it to see if I could, but it was entirely unnecessary, and I feel like the story 1) is now easier to recommend to people and 2) flows much more easily than before. It'll remain an M, though, if only for the violence.  
><em>


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